A Tortured Past
by Kraehi
Summary: CHAPTER2! A tale of a troll and his deep hatred that led him down a dark path. Can he learn to forgive? Warnings: Torture, gore/violence and Cannibalism, M/F, some racism. You have been warned.
1. Chapter 1

* * *

The humid air was thick with the nauseating scents of stale blood sweat, mold and excrement. Heavy metal cages hung from thick chains that groaned in protest from the stone ceilings. Others filled the cramped floor space, leaving an open area in the center. Some of the occupants were slowly dying, waiting for their turn in the torture. Most were trolls from the forest, and had been exposed to the punishment that awaited them. The prisoners would watch on in terror as body after body would be strung up, beaten, flayed, burned and dismembered alive.

When the victim could take no more, they would succumb to the welcoming embrace of death. Their bodies would be gutted, sliced and fed to the remaining prisoners. Those who did not eat would die. Those who did, only delayed their deaths. The pride in the trolls is what kept most alive, though it was a bitter and horrifying life. Their captors took immense pleasure in watching a troll's spirit wither away. Several had gone mad and violent, attacking their cage mates.

On a particularly dreary night, rain poured from the heavens, draining into the already damp dungeons. An occasional sharp _crack_ could be heard among the drone of rain pelting the stone walls. A guttural cry of agony quickly followed. The sound echoed from a nearby room. Another _crack_. Another cry... _Crack!_ Pleading..._CRASH!_ A scream resonated in the air... Then silence.

Whimpers and soft sobbing reverberated in the small room as another victim fell. The aged groan and creak if rusted chains muffled them. Many eyes settled on the lone troll that hung by his wrists in the center of the room. His body showed evidence of a severe beating, tainting his jade skin black and blue with bruising. The long white hair hung in a tangled mass, matted with mud and blood about his muscled shoulders.

His chapped lips parted in a raspy groan, his throat having been parched. Slowly he opened his bruised and achy copper eyes to take stock of his situation. Pain surged through his consciousness once more. Another groan escaped his chapped lips. Muscles convulsed, clenching and releasing. He could no longer feel his arms and hands. His massive body swayed over the floor the violent spasms rocking him like a pendulum.

A figure entered the dark room. The faint flicker of few candles did little to stave off the dreary space. The light flickered over the gleaming plated armor. Their green eyes shimmered and glowed with malice. A gauntleted hand reached up and dragged bare fingers over the taut muscled of the troll's abdomen. The tender flesh quivered under the seeking hand. The arcane energy leeched through the troll's skin easily like a cloth to a puddle.

A deep growl issued from the troll, and he tried his best to glare defiantly at the High Elf that violated his skin. The traces of arcane magic made him feel as if thousands of bugs swarmed him. The High Elves had discovered a troll's weakness to the arcane magics, it prevented their natural regenerative abilities to heal their wounds. Such was their Achilles' Heel.

The elf said something in a tongue he could not understand. He worked his jaw agitatedly. Then the elf had the audacity to _grin_ up at him! The troll scowled over his long wide sweeping tusks and gave the elf something to grin about. He took a deep shuddering breath and spat in the elf's aggravating face. He could swear he had heard some congratulating cheers from his fellow prisoners.

The elf reared back, roaring with fury. The troll gave a bark of rasp laughter at the elf's display. He sobered immediately when the elf drew back to strike at him. He tensed, preparing for the assured blow to come. He swung... and faltered when a second masculine voice entered. The voice chilled the troll far deeper than it's predecessor. It held an unearthly calm that spoke of great power. He knew when he should fear for his life. He feared for it now.

The second High Elf blew in through the open door, A kind face betrayed my the hidden malevolence within. He spoke calmly to the first elf, the second retaliating in their language. Expressing fury at what the troll had done. The first seemed amused. He turned his attention to the defiant troll. He mimicked the first elf's actions, drawing his palms up the troll's belly, almost affectionately. The troll didn't have any more spit, otherwise he would have repeated what he had done, and the elf knew it.

The first elf, a dark haired male, seemed to cow under the blonde second. The troll could not pick out any defining features, for his vision was blurred. Dark hair, as the troll identified him, held something out to the blonde. The blonde shifted forward once more, pressing something cold into his skin. He hissed when the burning sting of a blade bit through him like butter. He felt the arcane energy flood into the wound, burning him from within.

The blonde, who appeared to be a mage, said something in Thalassian, an order. Dark hair, moved beyond the troll's line of vision. Stopping at a chain wrapped wheel, he removed the catch and let the chain unravel by the trolls heavy weight. He grunted when his bare feet hit the cold floor, his knees buckling. The elves released the metal shackles letting his bloody wrists fall to the floor. They each took an arm and dragged his massive body to a strange swiveling table and heaved him up onto it. The High Elves secured his arms and legs in a spread eagle fashion. The trolls head swam with the possibilities and warred with the spine chilling fear. The two elves moved beyond the troll's vision, and the dull thud of heavy leather and metal hit the floor. He trembled, straining his ears for any sign of what was to come.

* * *

**This story is fully dedicated to _Cenkic _(A reader form AFF). He or she, (I apologize for being unsure of which.) left me a fantastic review on my other oneshot and inspired me to get this one typed. I have it fully written out in a notebook, now I am editing and posting what I can. It won't be a long story but I fully enjoyed writing it. I will have drawings up soon to go along with the story. Review and thanks for reading...**


	2. Survivor's Instinct

As a priestess, There was little Marley could do to free herself. She along with a small group of forest trolls had been captured after attacking an elf settlement. The group had been larger but the elves had used their magics to slow their natural regeneration. Many were killed, the rest, gathered as prisoners. She had been employed as one of the three healers to their war-band. The strain of the magic caused her to fall behind and get overwhelmed, thus depleting her own magic. She was attacked there after taking her consciousness.

Marley's consciousness returned, what felt like hours later. She recognized the sensation of numbness in her arms and rough wood against her belly. The ache went deep. She struggled against her bonds to no avail. The crisp night air chilled her bare skin. Marley tired to roll over onto her right side but something solid, warm and sticky prevented her progress. A low grunt sounded upon impact.

She rolled over in place to get a view of what she bumped into. Not what, who. A troll Headhunter is who. She recognized him by sight only. She couldn't place his name however. Much of his body was obscured by blood and bruises. His breath came raggedly and shallow. One eye, his left that had not swollen, slid open. The emerald color jarred her. They reminded her of… _No don't think of that now._

She cleared her dry throat. Her voice came out roughly. "Ya alrigh'?" He seemed to mentally check himself for an answer.

"Mos'ley… Bruised an' beaten'. I can'na feel mah left arm tho'. I t'ink it be broken." He whispered back hoarsely. She examined their surroundings quickly. There were two more trolls on the other side of her. The cart that rocked and swayed was caged. Their captors headed the cart, none following behind. She looked back at the Headhunter. His jet black hair covered his head in a wild array, most matted with blood. His face held the tribal tattooing of his adulthood rites. Thick, curved tusks angled away from his mouth.

He continued, " Ya… ya was one of da healah's? Good ta see ya alive leetle one."

She nodded and pondered their situation. "Can-" She began, "How sharp is ya tusks?"

He looked at her oddly before responding, "I dunno… Pretty sharp. Why?" She had already begun moving while he answered. The elves heading the card were not concerned by the active trolls. Marley returned to her previous position with her back to the large troll.

Marley pressed her bound hands against the muscular troll's belly. She closed her eyes and summoned her magic. He tensed, and green waves of magic entered his skin, healing his injuries. His sigh of relief comforted her. Ending the spell she made to conserve what else may remain of her magic. She could not be sure if he healed entirely, but he was healed enough.

"Thank ya… Dat be much bettah now." His breath stirred the little hairs on the nape of her neck. She could feel his face in her vibrant red Mohawk.

Shivering, she whispered, "Can ya move at all?"

He grunted. "No, not much. They tied mah wrists an' ankles too tight. Wha'cha plan?"

Marley rolled onto her back again, and levered herself upright with her bound hands. "I'm gonna scoot back, can ya try ta get these ropes off wit' ya tusks?"

"I can try." She wriggled back bringing her bound arms to the Headhunter's face. He concentrated, angling his hooked tusks into the knots. The trolls worked over an hour as the cart rocked and swayed over the uneven path. Finally the ropes fell free. Marley wheeled around and leaned over the larger male to free him.

He sat up and motioned to the other two trolls in the cart with them. One, a Hexxer and the other, a Headhunter. She checked the one nearest her. His skin was cool to the touch, he did not survive. She checked the pulse of the Hexxer. It was weedy at best. Marley healed him until she was satisfied.

"Wha'cha name?" the troll asked her when she turned once more.

"Marley, you?"

"I be Jodan. Where do ya t'ink dey takin' us?"

She shrugged. "I dunno, but mah gut is tellin' me dat it not where I wan' ta be."

"Mebbe it was bettah if we jus' died…" He said thoughtfully.

* * *

Oh my gosh! Another chapter! Yes I am a horrible procrastinator. This is pretty much a filler chapter, but I have hopes for the one that follows. There are drawings of the main characters in my deviant art, but if I listed them now, it would spoil the lead character. Thanks for reading…

_**Preview of next chapter.**_

_Blood trickled down his tightly muscled body in rivulets. They wanted to hear him scream. His blood had nearly washed out the blood from previous prisoners._

_In a deadly calm voice, the elf spoke in Orcish so that the troll could understand his words, "We will break you yet…"_


End file.
